


The One with the Suit Porn and Bunnies

by Davechicken, ElDiablito_SF



Series: Godstiel and Crowleypants (Do The Sex A Lot) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bondage, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Godstiel - Freeform, M/M, Suit Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:05:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/pseuds/ElDiablito_SF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a version of the Universe where Cas can successfully retain his Godhood, he and Crowley have lots of (consensual) sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One with the Suit Porn and Bunnies

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Godstiel and Crowleypants are sick bastards. Many fictional bunnies were harmed in the making of this porn. Expect freakbaggery.
> 
> Disclaimer: we are borrowing the photos in this work for illustrative purposes only, no copyright infringement is implied and we are making no money on this so please don't sue us.

A note flitters onto Crowley’s desk, on top of the paperwork requesting an extension to the staff facilities and the annexation of Cuba.

 

_Hey Crowleypants,_

_I’m tired of wearing this cheap, ill-fitted crap. I think our partnership deserves better. What do you think of this number?_

_Eskimo kisses,  
Godstiel_

 

He smiles to himself and writes out the return, sending it through the ether blown by a kiss:

_Oh angel, I think this would do marvellously. I have just the man to set you up. I knew we were working together for a reason. Just a word to the wise: if you do your hair like this, there will be Hell to pay._

_Crowleypants_

 

Before long, the next one arrives.

_No worries, lover. It will only be the sex hair going forward._

Crowley smirks. They are obviously not going to get much work done in their prospective kingdoms tonight.

_I would suggest these but… evil doesn’t sleep._

Another one:

_But evil can still do a fine job messing up those sheets! And the bare foot action is good for the bastinado. Hngg._

He twirls in his very nice chair, thoughts of naked angel tootsies much more appealing than paperwork.

_Evil loves to mess up the bed sheets. And other things. Tell me, angel, does your vessel scream like a girl, or is it a manly-man chest-pounding wail? Enquiring minds want to know._

Sure enough, Castiel’s reply comes. This time with another picture which would make even Lucifer shudder.

_My coital screams are raspy and deep and they shake both Heaven and Hell with their thunderous rumblings. Now stop this foreplay and let’s get it on. I brought you a huge pile of bunny corpses for us to bone on. Up next: angel corpses._

Cas’ letters are coming back almost before Crowley has sent his own, now.

_I hope you washed them first. I do love the feel of fur and death beneath me when I do the horizontal tango, but if I get bunny-shit between my ass-cheeks, you do not want to know the torments I will unleash upon your perfectly pert posterior._

 

_I mojoed the bunny shit away, now quit being such an angel-bone tease and help me tear up my nice new suit (I will mojo it back in place later). My “patience skills” are “rusty.”_

It only takes a small amount of effort to locate Cas. He’s still looking smug as hell and surrounded by a small mountain of ex-pets.

Crowley snaps his fingers and Cas’ clothes vanish. He tilts his head curiously. “That better for you, snookums? Besides. We still haven’t consummated our ‘partnership’. You know the rules. Pucker up, sugar lips, it’s time we made this official.”

Cas growls. “Don’t. Call me. Snookums. Crowley.” He veers on the demon, kissing him with the force of all the souls of purgatory behind the intent. “There. Now it’s official.”

The demon laughs happily, all the way into the kiss. And he decides it’s about time to cop a feel of his ass in the process. “Oh, angel, I’ll call you whatever I like. How about Mr. Steely Buns?” His fingers prod harder to judge the accuracy of said name. “Yep. I can go with that. Although… I think you forgot to sign off on the addendum, you know. The fine print…” Which he follows up with a kiss just as fierce.

Cas looks mildly bewildered and vaguely scandalized.

“What? The fine print?” He takes something out of his pocket, which looks suspiciously like an instructional manual and leafs through it, quickly. “I thought I saw all the important parts:

1\. Collect souls for ultimate power (check)  
2\. Misbehave as much as possible (check)  
3\. Look fabulous (double check)  
4\. All the hot man sex with Crowley all the time (in process...)  
5\. Make Dean watch (TBD)”

Cas puts the manual away and quirks his eyebrow.

“What did I forget?” he asks groping Crowley’s balls gently.

The groping makes it a bit hard to focus, so Crowley shifts his weight and tries his best. “You forgot: 6. Refer to Crowley as ‘Lord High Commander Of The Legions Of The Damned and Castiel’s Sexy Ass’ as and when required. 7. Participate in the first Annual Satanic Winter Olympic Games (as my bobsled).”

He shrugs. “Also, my little sugar plum, I sense a distinct imbalance in the clothing situation. Much as I enjoy wearing a good suit, I also enjoy strategically… not.”

“You may not use me as your bobsled,” Cas protests. “My nipples will chafe and we do not want that. I will accept no lip from you on this, Crowley. Remove that clause or I shall destroy you. Now. Where were we?” Cas returns the favor by sending Crowley’s suit to an undisclosed location. “These bunny corpses won’t get fucked on themselves.”

“We already kissed and made up on it,” he points out. “I can apply some vaseline to your nipples beforehand, and lick them better afterwards. Don’t knock it til you’ve tried it.”

Crowley decides now is the time they road-tested the rabbits, and barrels Cas backwards into them gleefully. “I hope these were some innocent child’s pets. That puts me in an even better mood.” He grabs Cas’ hands and shoves them both over his head, making good on his nipple-licking promise.

Cas pants with excitement. “Of course. I thoroughly terrified them and made sure they had a horrific last memory prior to slaughtering them for our pleasure.” He leans up towards the ministrations of Crowley’s pointy tongue.

Crowley nips and then strokes and then nips, not relenting until he gets one of the aforementioned unholy noises. He shifts to hold both hands with only one of his own, then uses the other to encourage Cas’ legs around his hips. “I _like_ you like this. I might even have to reconsider my feelings on God.”

Cas wraps his thighs tightly around Crowley’s hips. “I _am_ your God. You better get back to worshiping me properly, lest I get twitchy and make something explode.”

Another tilt to the head, eyes slanted. “Just because you are a God, does not make you _my_ God.” With both hands, he slams the angel’s hips down to emphasise his ‘point’.

And then… “What if I want something to explode?” He rubs against Cas’ ass in a meaningful and totally not subtle ‘look I have a hardon manner’. “Explosions are good. Pretty. _Sparkly_.”

The former angel, now divinity, wantonly thrusts his ass in the direction of the King of Hell’s boner. “You like the sound of your voice too much. Less talking, more ravishing.”

Crowley's answering laugh is equal parts amused and scornful. "Ravishing? What are you, some pulp-fiction wench? Cas... Cas... I'm not a pirate king. I'm the king of _Hell_. I'll _devour_ you."

He moves Castiel bodily, grinding up against his ass. "Now are you going to get yourself good and ready for some double-digits, or am I going to have to do everything myself? Because - darling - I won't be gentle."

Cas grunts, eyes half-lidded and clouded with lust. "Just because you run the Hell, doesn't mean I have to alter my vocabulary. It isn't impoverished, you know, like your morality." Cas frowns and bucks his ass towards Crowley. "Besides, I like it when you're rough. Open me up yourself, you slothful bastard."

"See, all you had to do was ask _nicely_." The filth from Cas' mouth is more than enough to spur him on. Crowley holds him up with one hand, the other stroking languidly over an ass-cheek. It is a very nice ass-cheek. At least he picked a nice meatsuit.

"Open wide, here comes the big airplane..." Being Head Honcho of Hell has its perks. Like snapping your fingers and coming away sticky. Sticky enough to run one finger around his angel's lovely little hole and push firmly inside. God he wants that ass. He wants it right fucking now.

Cas feels every nerve in his body becoming sensitized with anticipation, his nipples hardening and blushing even more as he feels Crowley's fingers breach him, massaging him from the inside. He can't wait to have Crowley rubbing his own cum into that channel later. But for now, all he can do is shiver with pleasure and whisper, "Yes, fuck... fucking hell... Crowley. More..."

"You greedy little whore. I bet you wanked over Sodom, didn't you? When you thought Michael wasn't watching..." Shit but his angel is hot like this. All depraved and flushed and squirming in his hands. Crowley's done this. He's caused this. And it feels fucking awesome.

"Keep that pretty mouth going, if you know what's good for you," he insists. Sliding a second finger in and splaying them inside. He goes faster than is wise - even for a vessel - because he wants it to sting and he wants to feel his legs shake. Scissoring him roughly, because shit but does he ever feel good.

It's becoming increasingly difficult to think, and what the hell is Crowley even on about? Sodom? "Uhhhhh..." Cas lets out a loud groan. He thrusts back against those clever fingers, needing to feel more of Crowley's hands all over him. His balls ache. "Fuck, Crowley, just get inside me. You fucking prick tease..." He knows how his lover gets off on hearing him beg and plead but he doesn't give a shit because his cock is engorged and leaking so profusely he's about to produce his own deluge on the floor and Noah might go swimming by in a little precum-Ark.

Crowley doesn't mind laughing at that. Cas has such a beautiful potty-mouth. He much prefers a divinity with an affinity for cock and cuss than their absentee father.

So he drops him. He lets go of his ass and lets his fingers fall from inside him and lets Cas drop onto his demented dead-bunny love bower. Where the fuck he got a dead bunny boudoir from is anyone's guess.

"Demon, remember?" he says, putting a hand on his chest and doing his best to look affronted. "Not a saint."

It's a game they play. Both of them want this, but neither of them is really prepared to give up the incessant bickering either. Crowley tries to hold his dick back, but the treacherous thing has a mind of its own. He's going to ream him. He is. Just as soon as the need to do it overcomes the need to be a total shithead.

Two can play at this game, Cas figures. He knows his demonic lover wants to ride his ass as much as Cas wants to feel him wrecking him utterly. The fur beneath him is soft and smells putrid: he loves the smell of death - it reminds him of his own immortality. Cas reaches behind him with both hands, spreading his cheeks apart, showing his puckering hole off to Crowley tauntingly. "Come on, babe. Look at it. All slick and red with want for you. Don't you want to just beat if up with your fat cock?"

Crowley can't tear his eyes away. Yes he wants it. He'd be lying to himself to say otherwise. Lying to others is fine; to himself, less so.

Shit. His evil little cock just makes the hard choice for him. He grabs those thighs and bends Cas almost double. Grabs his own cock and guides it in place. Leans forward and feels Cas open around him like he belongs. God - hah - but he feels good.

"I'm going to make you _scream_ ," he promises. "Scream that pretty little head off, snookums." He's buried balls deep. Oh god yes. He loves how Cas takes all of this (specially chosen, nicely endowed) vessel.

Cas moans, at first it's just a deep growl in the back of his throat, then it turns into louder fucked-out grunts as Crowley punches them out of Cas with his pounding cock. "Hnnnnngggg.... oh fuck, Crowley, yes! Yes! Give it to me!" Cas sinks his nails into Crowley's back, pressing little half-moons dripping blood under his shoulder blades. He clenches down hard around Crowley's cock, head thrown back, eyes closed, mouthing obscenities. "Fuck... you're so... big, so... fat... filling me up like that."

"My little angel whore," Crowley grins. "Did it hurt when you Fell?" It's corny but Crowley doesn't give a fuck.

Not when Cas is writhing on his dick like that. Not when Cas' fingers cause such delicious pain. With all the self-control he can muster, he slams into him. Hard and drawn out, but getting less controlled by the second. Hands holding him down and open as he chases the metaphorical rabbit. The faintest flicker of red crossing his eyes as his body starts the mutiny in earnest.

Car arches back off the pile of bunny corpses, flinging his arms out. He needs more. He needs Crowley to possess him even more than this. Cas makes long leather straps materialize, tethering his arms to the thick wooden headboard. He cranes his neck back, baring his throat. He wants to surrender. It's strange to admit, but he trusts Crowley, trusts him to take him to the highest peak of pleasure and return him back safely. As safely as Crowley can.

"Take... I'm yours..." Cas groans, squeezing his asshole tightly around the throbbing cock inside him.

"Yes, yes you are, sweetheart. You're all mine." And dreams are made of this. The stupid song carries on inside his head even as he digs fingernails into his hips.

Leather isn't good enough. Close but not quite. He snaps his fingers and the leather becomes chains. He always has to go one better. They tighten around Cas, pulling his arms open and stretching him. It makes all the muscles ripple aesthetically and Crowley appreciates that.

Because he looks like a pretty little present all wrapped up for him he snaps his fingers one last time. A silky pink bow materialises and slithers its way around Cas' cock to tie itself nicely. Oh yes.

"Now, my fairy-bun, scream for me."

Cas wants to make a snarky remarking about Crowley constantly needing to up the ante or raise the stakes, but quite frankly, he can't be bothered to vocalize much more than the constant stream of desperate, wailing sounds coming out of his mouth.

"Uh... fuck... fuck me," he mutters, needing to feel it harder and deeper than he's already getting. The chains shake from the strain of his arms and he tugs at them with the satisfied knowledge that they won't break around his wrists. "Fuck me, Crowley! Take it!"

"That was the general idea..."

The chains hold him nice and still and thankfully vessels don't suffer from cramp or tired muscles in stress positions. God, he loves being a demon. It means his shell finally can keep up with how fabulous he truly is.

Like this. Like ramming his very happy cock into his angel. Harder and harder. Knowing Cas can take everything he throws at him and more. Knowing Cas will just love it when he changes the angle slightly and is fucking him wider, not just deeper. Knowing he'll love it when Crowley grabs his hips and sends a jolt through his nervous system to make him spasm and tighten and - ah, yes. That does it. Feeling the body around him squeeze his cock means the last little shred of self-control snaps and he's fucking him with all he has as his own climax rips through him with a low, wounded howl.

Crowley hasn't even touched his cock, but it doesn't matter, Cas is coming too, all over his sweat-covered abdomen. It sprays him and pools in his belly button, and the sound he makes when he comes apart is closer to a keen than to a cry of ecstasy. He shuts his eyes and lets the aftershocks of both their pinnacles wash over him in steady waves.

Crowley looks ridiculously pleased with himself in a slightly non-demonic manner, but he's sure if he just smirks enough it will pass.

He drops Cas to sink in his lap - still buried balls-deep in him, all sticky and sated - but leaves him tied and spread. His eyes rove over his debauched lover and he reminds himself again that it's fine because fucking angels makes them naughty. He's doing Hell's work.

He slowly unwraps the bow from Cas' spent cock and uses it to wipe some of the mess from his belly.

"You know," he says, "I think the same cut in a dove grey would bring out your eyes."

Cas smiles and, because it's the only limbs he can freely use, squeezes Crowley tightly with his thighs. They're still shaking from the strain - his vessel's limitations, no doubt - but how satisfying to have the proof of having been so thoroughly reamed.

"You'd just leave that one on the floor too," he purrs into Crowley's ear. "Whatever would be the point?"

"Well I can't have my angel walking around flaunting his assets in public. And besides, pulling fine serge from your skin is one of the nine pleasures in life. I'll order a half dozen..."

FIN


End file.
